His gaze sharpened. “Don’t worry about Caidrik. My brother will soon be dead.”
“Half-brother,” she corrected. “You’re built the same and definitely look alike. Why are you willing to kill each other?”
Bulwark set the cup onto the saucer with a sharp clatter. “None of your business. Learn your place now. Life will be easier for you.”
Stabbing him held even more appeal for her. She lifted her own cup and took a sip, letting the soft flavor steady her breathing and smooth the edge of her nerves. The tea grounded her and kept her present. “I hate you,” she said. “You hate me. You already have a pack. Go do your own thing.”
“This is my thing,” he replied. “My pack isn’t large enough, and we don’t have the resources of the Slate Pack. This pack is wealthy. Very. I want the money, and I will win. Accept that. If you don’t, next time I won’t miss with the knife.”
She blinked, her body going cold. The silver slugged through her veins. He’d just threatened to kill her.
He shoved the chair back and walked out, the door closing behind him and leaving the house in heavy silence.
A moment later, Solomon entered and quietly replaced the cup and saucer, his movements careful. “You’re doing well,” he said softly.
Nadia kept her gaze on the table, her hands still, and said nothing.
Luca Cross entered through the door wearing a smile that belonged on a politician, or possibly a conman. The difference between the two males was obvious. His charm settled easily over him, practiced and polished, and once again she found herself responding to it.
“Nadia.” He inclined his head. “I have to admit, these customs of your people are…odd.”
“You’re not kidding.” She gestured to the seat across from her. She still couldn’t believe this was her reality now. “Please, have a seat.”
He did, and his body appeared relaxed. “You’re handling this with impressive grace.”
She poured his tea without looking at him. “Grace is just panic with good posture.”
He laughed softly. “I would never force you to do anything. You deserve time and choice.”
She lifted her gaze to meet his. “Yet you didn’t deny the trophy.”
He lifted one shoulder. “Because I intend to win, and when I do, I intend to earn you.” He leaned toward her. “There’s no time requirement, is there? Once an Alpha is named, he doesn’t have to mate the trophy right away.” He winced as he said the word.
She had to give him that. The word made her want to wince as well. “I don’t think there’s a time requirement.” As a point, it was a good one.
“Well then, there you have it. I’ll win the Alpha position, and I’ll court you. If our relationship doesn’t work out, then it doesn’t work out. If it does, that would be fantastic.”
“Okay,” she said, surprised by how easily the word came. She could appreciate his honesty.
He looked her over more carefully. “However, I do want to make sure this is legitimate. You’re the rightful heir. Is there no chance you want to be the Alpha?”
“There’s no way,” she said. “I grew up a farmer, not a fighter.”
“Ah. Fair enough.” He rolled his neck and then stood. “Well, we’ve done this. I’d really like to move on to the challenges.” He gave a half bow, turned, and walked out.
She looked down at his untouched tea. “All right. Good enough.”
Solomon rushed in immediately, his frown deep and unmistakably disapproving. “He didn’t drink the tea. It’s huckleberry. We have limited resources, and that’s the good stuff.”
Nadia’s mouth fell open as she turned to look up at him. “Seriously?” Her entire life was on the line. The pack could be in trouble, and he was worried about tea?
Solomon faltered. “I’m taking my job as librarian seriously. The position is listed in the grimoire. That’s important.”
She sipped her tea. “You’re an interesting fellow, Solomon.”
He straightened his tie. “Thank you. It’s kind of you to notice.” He removed Luca’s cup and saucer.
Next arrived Dax Moontel, who kept adjusting his black vest as he entered. “This is stupid.”
